Teach Me How To Say Goodbye
by Muffinstuff7105
Summary: Moana has always had a fascination with the ocean, and the ocean has always had a fascination with her. So how is she supposed to let go of the thing she's always loved? One-shot fluff fic.


**A/N: Contrary to popular belief, I'm not dead! God, it's been way too long. Well, this is only my first piece of writing introduced to the public EVER and probably has tons of errors, so what could go wrong? The correct answer is a lot. I beggeth you, please leave constructive criticism after reading to better my future writing pieces. I really need it, being the rookie that I am. Enjoy! Or not. I don't care. (I do…)**

Moana had never really decided whether or not she was going insane. The ocean had always had this magnetic feel to it, pulling her towards the tide with every wave it formed and crashing onto the damp sand, creating a sound that practically whispered, _Moana, come here._ But somehow it whispered the name of no one else but her's. It was strange.

As long as Moana had been staring out at where the horizon meets the sea, Tala had been dancing. Tala was somehow fascinated by the stingrays of the waters and had formed a sort of spiritual connection with them, making each other lifelong friends. She danced the dance of Moana's people, swaying her hips to the rhythm of the tide, moving her hands to slide like waves. Although to anyone else it seemed as if Tala had gone mad watching the sun reflect off of the waters, Moana soon discovered that just as Moana was drawn to the sea, Tala was drawn to the stingrays. The only thing Moana envied about her grandmother was that the stingrays could greet her as a friend and dance around her, making the water swirl with delight. And even though the ocean couldn't do that for Moana, sometimes she felt accompanied by something, or _someone,_ when she dipped her feet into the water.

It was no surprise to Moana when her father told her she would one day be looked up to by her people. She was the chief's daughter. Like it or not, one day she would be her people's savior, a strong and fearless woman, she was told, to watch over and protect the island she loved so, as would her people. But somehow the ocean said otherwise. It kept luring her to its side, and sometimes she wished the ocean had never called her to begin with. Why the chief's daughter, of all people? It was distracting! It was ludicrous! Her sanity was being pulled away from her within seconds, and somehow the more she fought back, the more likely it was for her to be caught up in the sway of the water's tide, circling her until she thought she would get dizzy. She prayed to the gods every day to take this beautiful burden off of her back and onto another, but no matter how hard she pleaded, how many nights she spent crying out to the moon, kicking the water and screaming at it to drain away, the ocean never stopped swimming.

"Tala, if you love something, how do you learn to let it go?"

Moana froze, her lips numb with remorse. It had spilled out of her, like fluids to a tilting jar. She hadn't necessarily _meant_ to say it, but it had been sitting in the back of her mind all morning, and occasionally beating at her throat every time her grandmother passed by. As she sat on the damp, sticky sand of the forbidden beach, crunchy particles sinking onto the fabric of her skirt, she felt a sudden shudder in her ribs, and a voice out of the ocean breeze began to call to her. _Tell her, tell her. You won't regret it,_ it chanted, an incessant hum. Moana shook her head, silently scolding herself for thinking such a thing. She turned her head partially, a tiny smile forcing its way to her lips as she watched as Tala swayed her arms and hips to the beat of the ocean's musical drums. _Swish, swash. A light breeze, a beat. Swish, swash._ The temptation tugged at her vocal chords once more. Moana began debating and arguing against herself. Her conscience was pointing a sharp weapon at her back, demanding she give in. But Moana didn't give up. She just casually pulled a bow and arrow out of a pocket of her skirt. Let the duel begin…

Not even four minutes had passed by before Moana had been stabbed.

Tala froze from her dance with the sea, and slowly turned her chin over her shoulder. "What did you say?" she inquired, pulling her body completely towards Moana and offering a hand out to her granddaughter. Moana reluctantly took Tala's hand and pushed herself up to her feet. Moana uncomfortably began shaking the excess hand off of her skirt and stumbled to find the right words. _Go on,_ the dreamy voice whispered. _You don't have to rephrase it. Just go on and tell her. Ask her again._ Moana breathed in deeply and shut her eyes tightly. Her breath shuddered with each word her choked out. "If you love something, how do you learn to let it go?"

Tala's gaze burned into Moana's, glancing into her soul like an open window. Moana braced herself for interrogation, for an uncanny riddle, for _something_ of the extraordinary…

Moana didn't even realize that she had snapped her eyes shut before the murky blackness snapped in half and tore away her colorless haven, leaving a bleeding sunset and a grandma that had just… snorted.

Tala eyed Moana playfully and dug her cane deeper into the sand. "You don't," Tala declared before collapsing onto a log settled on the beachside that Moana hadn't even realized _was there-_ "You just find a new way to love it."

Moana's eyebrow arched, struck with a sort of shock that came with the aftermath of accidentally saying something very vague that actually revealed an ocean of deep thoughts, some light, like when the water shone on the reef at just the right angle in midday, and some like the water way beyond the reef, mysterious and forbidden and almost impossible to comprehend. Almost.

"So, like, from afar? You… you learn to love it from afar?" Moana uttered, sounding a lot louder than she had expected. Moana paused her wild thoughts, noticing a small, yet mischievous and sparkling light that resided in Tala's eyes, a gaze that she had been brave enough to follow. Tala sighed and groaned as she eased herself back onto the log, making herself as comfortable as possible. Moana silently noted that she might be here for a long time.

"If that's your idea of what I meant," Tala affirmed, placing the palms of her hands on the head of her cane, "then so be it."

Moana shook her head in both confusion and disgust, her brow furrowing. What was that supposed to mean? What was she supposed to say? Was there a catch? Was the answer lying right in front of her and she just couldn't see it? _Was_ she supposed to love the water from afar? Is this a sort of scenario that in order to find out the answer, a more plausible question should be asked? Whatever game this was, it was a tough one. One that supposed to make you think. One that will make you think until your head hurts and your world starts to spin. Moana scoffed and placed a hand on her hip, astounded at how perplexed this absolute philosophical monstrosity had total control over her thoughts. "Is this a trick question, Tala?" Moana whipped around expecting to have her vision clash with an image of her grandmother. But on no log did her grandmother sit. "Tala? Tala?"

Moana's head lashed sideways, a certain someone meeting the corner of her eye's view. Moana groaned, her feet scrambling to meet up with her dancing grandmother beside the water.

"Tala, was that a trick question? What are you hiding from m-" A finger grazed Moana's lips. "Listen, Moana," Tala sung, pulling her finger away from Moana's mouth slowly. "The water. Hear it. See it. Feel it." Tala bent down as far as her aging knees could bring her, and her pruny hands grazed the water's silky surface, a breezy chime echoing and filtering itself in Moana's ears. Tala's shoulders relaxed despite her stance, and a feeling of pure euphoria manifested itself on her expression, burrowing its bliss into her soul. Moana sneered, although the feeling of revulsion washed away like sand to the sea and was replaced by organic jealousy.

Attempting to shake the vibe of longing away, Moana bent down and grasped the back of her skirt with one hand to prevent it from riding up, and with the other, let her hand fall limply onto the ground before placing it into the chilly water. "I'm feeling it, Tala," Moana chuckled sarcastically. A long wooden stick then collided with Moana's behind, making her hiss in pain. Tala held down a giggle bubbling at the base of her throat while she rolled her eyes. "No, Moana," Tala whispered preachingly. "Feel it in your heart. It is where you belong."

Moana gasped and bent her formation back into a straight line. "What are you talking about? How do you know? How… how…?" Moana's pulse thundered beneath her wrist as she watched her grandmother's soft gaze intently, her shoulders bobbing up and down with amusement. "Moana," Tala remarked, setting a gently hand on Moana's shoulder, "I've always known."

"That's crazy. How could you have known? I...I don't even know if I know." Moana's embarrassed gaze dropped downwards, landing in the sand. Tala's soft breathing rapidly decreased with each waking moment of their silence, a pattern Moana had noticed years and years ago, whenever they had a serious talk. "Well, you're here now, doubting yourself despite the signs. Isn't that enough?"

Moana screamed internally.

"I know that you have always been drawn to the water," Tala cooed. "Ever since you were born, you've loved the ocean. You visited it like it was a friend." Moana winced, unable to navigate her own sense of hurt. "And I also know that you are unable to be where you love right now. But right now does not mean forever, Moana." Tala soothingly took hold of her granddaughter's chin, a tender but firm hold. Moana could have escaped her grandmother's grasp, but she did not. She was too overcome with emotion. Even the most dangerous place to be in that moment was still somehow more safe than in the heart of the island. "You will go out on the water, Moana. Trust me. You were meant to do something big." Tala's grasp loosened. "And that is why your people need you."

Moana's bottom lip trembled. "But I don't need them!" Moana cried, her body quaking with excruciating energy. Moana dove into her grandmother's embrace, nestling her head into her grandmother's chest. "I want to go out on the water. I really do. But I c-can't!" Tala peered down at her granddaughter and let out a withering laugh, raising a finger to wipe frustrated tears off of Moana's face. Moana peered up, her stinging and bloodshot eyes boring into wise and wonderfilled ones. "You will make our world a better place, because you make my world a better place."

Moana shuddered and buried herself in the crook of her grandma's neck. "Will I have to give up the water completely when I become chief?" Moana murmured, letting the view of the starry night sky creep up behind the fading swirl of pink and orange paint her vision. "Is that just a mandatory thing that has to be done?"

Tala gave Moana one last hearty embrace before letting her arms fall to her sides. "I think what you should be asking," Tala started, her feet shuffling near the back entryway to the village, "is will it be mandatory after you' _ve_ become a chief."


End file.
